


Bond across universes

by Capt_Birdie



Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Gen, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-07
Updated: 2019-03-28
Packaged: 2019-03-28 04:58:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13896777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Capt_Birdie/pseuds/Capt_Birdie
Summary: Independent missing scenes related to Burnham and Georgiou





	1. Conflict of the mind and heart

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this before the finale, as a filler of sorts, and is based on the deliciously sassy sneak peak released before the episode.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "The Heart wants what it wants - or else it does not care"  
> Emily Dickinson

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this before the finale, as a filler of sorts, and is based on the deliciously sassy sneak peak released before the episode.

Burnham saunters back to her station in defeat. She tries to school her features, as different thoughts and emotions run through her. Michael definitely feels divided. On one hand she is elated that she doesn't have to hide the Emperor anymore. The presence of her former Captain gives her a strange sense of strength, even if it is a lie. And yes, she dreads the conversation Tilly will initiate when they'll find themselves alone. On the other hand, she cannot help but be suspicious of the plans of the Emperor after seeing a slight smirk on her face. It also unnerves her, how she just behaves with the crew. How is it possible that Starfleet trusts her to this amount? How could they give the Fleet's most advanced ship to someone who kills people without a blink and remorse? What could she want, and more importantly what she has to offer that they didn't even considered telling her that the Emperor will stay in disguise?  
"Specialist Burnham, follow me to the ready room, I wish to discuss a part of your plan regarding our mission." the voice of the Captain - no Emperor - breaks her musings. 

"Yes. Captain." Answers Burnham hesitantly while giving Saru a questioning eyebrow. He can only give her a glance of uneasiness before the Emperor’s gaze snaps up to him in warning. 

"Number one, you have the bridge." clips Georgiou to which Saru can only nod in acknowledgement.

As soon as both the former Emperor and Michael enter the ready room, the Emperor announces "Computer, privacy!" the door closes, the glass dims. Burnham stands ramrod straight, hands behind her back, trying to be prepared for anything. The Emperor saunters to her desk and leans against it hands on the desk.

"I believe you have questions Michael" leers Georgiou "but I'm afraid I cannot answer all of them." 

"Why did you asked me here then?" 

"I need your help to convince the crew of my identity, the Admiral wishes to keep up the appearance. There are some mannerisms that are quick to catch on and can be quick to fail under certain circumstances. Therefore, I need your input on how your Captain behaved usually. Admiral Cornwell assured me that you'll help without any hinderance."  
Had she been without Vulcan guidance in her youth, a growl would have surely left Burnham’s mouth, but displeasure was still showing on her face, earning an amused smirk from the Emperor. 

"She did not ask or order anything like that." says defiantly Burnham.  
"Would you like me to call her here and tell her that you are threatening to expose me?"  
"No."  
"Good. I don't have many questions. Let's start, shall we?"

"Can I get some answers in return?" It cannot hurt to try, thinks Michael, she already knows I'm suspicious of her. It is infuriating how this woman can get under her skin under so little time. It is as if she knew her at least as well as her Philippa, with the added danger of being stabbed in the back. No. That's not true. She couldn't kill her. As much as the Emperor puts on an emotionless response, she knows - or at least dares to hope - that she is as disturbed by her late daughter’s presence as she is by her late Captain’s. 

"After I'm finished, you can ask one question to which I will answer truthfully."  
Michael looks at her, deep in her thought, one question. Does she wanted to know what she is up to? Hell yeah. Would she answer with a concrete answer? Hell no. Maybe she can opt for a more personal question? Or even coax out another answer if she asks way more than one? 

Michael relaxes her stance a bit, braces for the questions and nods.  
"What do you want to know?"

"How did Georgiou address her crew, you and the Kelpien?"

"She referred everyone by their rank and last name. Sometimes she called Saru" - emphasising his name - ", Mr. Saru. With me she was more familiar, it was not uncommon for her to call me Michael even when we were on the bridge on duty."

"Was she mingling in her downtime with the crew?"  
"No."

"I don't believe that she secluded herself."  
"No, she didn't, but I wouldn't call it mingling. She toured the ship, asked questions here and there, making small talk with the crew on duty, understanding the crew's needs instinctively, but never really sat down with any of them. I know she had been through a lot in her life, saw a lot of battles and lost people serving under and beside her. I understood both the need to be visible for them and the need not to get too attached to them."

"But you were an exception. Surely the two of you spent some time together outside the bridge." wondered the Emperor.  
"After I became her first officer, the two of us had occasional breakfast together and at least a few times in a week dinner, but not with the crew present."  
"I see." said Georgiou, slightly turning away from Burnham, with a pensive look on her face.

"How is it then, that you look at me like you look at your adoptive father?"  
Michael swallowed. All this time she tried to keep it professional with the Emperor, showing a brave face, but this question threw her off. She began to mull over the answer while casting her eyes down. Somehow her boots seemed to be more helping. She remembered exhilarating arguments, command decisions, quiet conversations on life, humanity and all there is in the universe, the eyes that softened when she came up with an unexpected solution, and the deep gut wrenching pain she felt when she lost her.  
"Well?" turning back, asked impatiently the Emperor, causing Michael to fall out of her reverie.  
"I ..." thoughts were running wild in Burnham’s head.  
"It took time. Time spent knowing each other. She was always nurturing, always looked for ways to broaden my horizons, to challenge my preconceptions." Her vision suddenly became obscured by unshed tears. "From the first moment her presence compelled me to respect her, and I admired her spirit. With time, I began to trust her implicitly, something that up until that time only my adoptive parents earned." 

The Emperor stood wary, looking at Michael intently, her heart clenching with a familiar ache. She was also orphaned just as her daughter. When Michael tried to get rid of her tears, she turned away again hiding the pain and compassion from her, and herself. 

"I understand, but that doesn't explain her attitude towards you." said Georgiou quietly.  
Michael straightened herself out, then began.  
"I wanted to visit you later today to show this to you." She dug into her pocket and presented a small object.  
"What is this?"  
"Her last will to me. Maybe it will give an answer to this question. I wanted you to understand why I was so desperate to decide to bring you here." looking into her hand she took a deep breath and extended the small holographic projector towards the Emperor. Pursing her lips together thinking, "I just ... ", but then she changed her mind, shaking her head "... never mind." looking up to the Emperor eyes steeling herself for a similar berate she got earlier on her weakness. 

Georgiou slowly took the device from her, fumbling it in her hands. Then, against her better judgment she decides to give in. Putting the device on the table, she touches the button. As the familiar yet unknown face appears, she steps back. She listens intently to every word. When the late Captain addresses finally Michael - "Know that I'm as proud of you as if you were my own daughter", she smiles faintly. After the recording has finished she turns to Michael standing close to her, who seemed to be engrossed in the words of her former Captain, mentor, surrogate mother. 

"I am sorry. But at least in the end you know she loved you." taking a deep breath "I cannot say the same thing about my daughter."  
Michael watches her face, only a foot away from her, now that it was unguarded, sadness shadowing her features. In the next instant she saw the walls coming up again, the Emperor masking up the human side of her. 

"From what I've seen now, and what I've read from her personal logs ..." begins the Emperor slightly changing the topic.  
"You've read what?" cried out Burnham. "How do you have access to her personal logs? Those are only available to the family..."  
"your captain was not a person to hold a grudge - I believe she forgave you the moment she sent you to the brig if it gives you any consolation." continued the Emperor as if nothing had happened. "I think showing any animosity toward you would be uncharacteristic of her. Do you agree?"  
Michael stared at the Emperor incredulously, noses flaring, then took a deep breath. Exhale and inhale, said Michael to herself. Still she couldn't stop her raging heart, so she steps away from Georgiou and begin to pace in the office. "How could you say like it is a fictional role to play, as if it is a tale to be told? Who gave you access to her files?"

The Emperor huffs and gets a hold of Michael's arm stopping her pace. "The Admiral, of course. If I am to play convincingly a deceased captain, how else would I know her?"  
"And she gave you those files?"  
A smile formed on the Emperors face, "I demanded for access. It was an interesting experience. There are even a lot of similarities between our histories."  
Michael furrows her brows, still not able to think clearly.  
"So, what is your answer?"  
Burnham stares at her as if she'd grown another head. She just registers that the Emperor's hand is still holding onto her arm.  
"Animosity, yes or no?" changing her tone from guarded to playful.  
"Yes, I mean, no" babbled Michael. "She never held a grudge." then she steps out of the hold if Georgiou. 

"All right. I think, for the moment, that's all what I need now. We need to get back." stated Georgiou and started towards the door.

"Wait!"  
"What?" snapping at Michael.

"I still have my question to ask." challenges Michael. The Emperor squints her eyes, tilts her head slightly, looking at her with a semblance of malice, which would have made another person quiver.  
"What do you think about when you look at me? Because I think your outburst earlier about my weakness towards my Philippa was as much for yourself as for me."  
The Emperor jaw clenches, and begins to saunter back to Michael, her gaze never faltering. Oh, if looks could kill, she would be dead by now.  
"Every time I see you, I hear your voice, I have to say a mantra that YOU are not my daughter." says the Emperor angrily through closed teeth.  
"Why can't you see this as a second chance?" blurts out Michael. 

"What second chance? You're not the Michael that I held when nightmares disturbed her, not the Michael I read bedtime stories, not the Michael who battled victoriously by my side, nor the Michael who called me mother in the last 20 years." lashes out the Emperor. "You bear her face, and against all odds you are so not unlike her. You have the same stance, defiance, same exploring and ever curious spirit, same passionate heart, you even look at me the same way." she stops, tries to calm down, shaking her head "But no, you are not her." Michael hears her tearful whisper. 

"As you are not my Philippa. Yet, your presence makes me stronger. Despite all that has happened, even after seeing all those things you are capable of doing, you still reach me." admits Michael in response, tears welling up again in her eyes.  
The Emperor looks at Michael. She is trying to determine how much of this conversation is calculated, if she is only trying to stab her in the back. But she can only find honesty in her not daughters' eyes. She slowly lifts her right hand to Michael's face, touching it as she had done in the throne room, stroking it gently. Michael cannot help herself and leans into her hand. She knows it's irrational, that this person is not her Philippa, but it feels like the weight crushing her chest for almost a year had been lifted, leaving only a dull ache behind. She didn't not allow herself this luxury before, not knowing where the Terran Burnham stood with the Emperor. Now, she submerges herself in this lie. It doesn't help that their bond is so strong, that this mother-daughter relationship carries over between universes, and she lets a few teardrops to escape.  
"What do you want?" comes a defeated question from Georgiou. She feels herself emotionally drained, which she only felt after learning about the death of her daughter. Seeing her daughter’s face again, then learning her true identity, losing her reign, killing Lorca, pulled into another universe without her consent, a universe where humans were on a brink of annihilation was a shuttle travel through an ion storm without inertial dampeners.  
"Truce." whispers Michael. "To have ourselves a peace of mind. To not let it end like it ended before."  
Stepping away from Burnham "I'm not her." states Georgiou.  
"I know."  
"Then why are you pursuing this nonsense?"  
"Because this conversation is not becoming of a Terran Emperor. You seem comfortable here, with me."  
At this the Emperor frowns, knowing this weakness of hers must be tampered down if she wants to succeed later on.  
"Enough. We go back, now."

"Don't doubt her love for you." Michael blurts out before Georgiou could open the door.  
"How can you say that? You don't know her!" growled the Emperor turning back again to Michael.  
"You said yourself, we are, were, so much alike. If you had been at least half the mother my captain was to me, she surely loved you and never wanted to hurt you."  
"She attempted a coup with Lorca!" almost shouted the Emperor.  
"She _assisted_ the coup of Lorca." grounded Burnham. "I think she did it to save you. She must have known that Lorca had plans to kill you anyway, whether she helped him or not, so she decided to play along. She either pleaded for your life before or thought that he would spare your life had she asked and surely even had a backup plan if all these were to fail."  
"What makes you think that?"  
"I've turned against my Philippa because I believed that saving her is more important than the Starfleet's principles. Principles that I've lived by up until that moment. It was even against my Vulcan upbringing that I religiously try to maintain even today. I also knew it would disappoint my father whose approval I've always sought and never got until recently. And yet when it was about her survival, nothing mattered."  
The Emperor shuts her eyes, exhaling slowly, willing every emotion to disappear. So far, every new information on this universe’s Michael showed that the two of them were more identical than twins. Both were extremely smart, intelligent, always wanting to prove themselves in the worst possible scenarios and succeeding, they were also too headstrong, and behind their schooled expressions a loving heart resided. Perhaps she is right, she could make peace with her heart, bury her daughter once and for all and treat this Burnham as a stranger. That's the only way, if she wants her plans to come to fruition.  
"All right." comes a soft answer.  
"Thank you." says Burnham. 

"What will you win from this charade?" asks unexpectedly Michael.  
"Freedom" comes a fast and direct answer.  
"Then what?"  
"I've already answered more than one question. You are too curious for your own good." sneers the Emperor and finally leaves the room. Well, at least she confirmed that she has an ulterior motive. Damn. Surak, help us.

As Burnham heads back to her station on the bridge, she glances over to Saru, who looks back at her. All you all right? Comes the wordless question. Her "I'm okay" expression calms the Kelpien down. Stay alert, and Burnham purposefully indicates toward the Emperor, now residing in the captain’s chair.  
Surak said that there is Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combinations. Well, right now, it seems farfetched. There must be some universal constants to result in this scenario, to be practically adopted by the same person in two fundamentally different universes, to have this unbreakable bond. Maybe they are to have this bond, to overcome whatever the universe is throwing at them. Or someone has a bad sense of humour.  
But right now, the Emperor looks pensive, calculating, and Michael cannot even comprehend what goes in her mind. Not that she wants to know it exactly, but she will be paying attention to every little detail from now on to prevent whatever malicious scheme she is concocting. And she hopes that it will be enough, hopes that it will not result in a second, more deadly mutiny, because she doesn't think she can walk away from it unscathed and sane. Hopes that this unlikely bond between them will be enough to stop a war and start anew, in peace.


	2. Storm beneath the surface

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What can you do when nothing goes your way?

"See that she's comfortable!" orders the Admiral and leaves the room with the Vulcan in tow.

The Emperor sits down on the couch, not looking happy. She is pissed. Royally. Pun intended. Michael told Lorca that Starfleet would have helped getting back had he asked. She asked that exactly and yet she found herself still here. The status of the war must be dire if their only solution is to put her in a gilded cage, obscured in the shadows. At least in a real cage she would know what is happening outside. Still she might be able to use this situation to her advantage. This ship is one of its kind, with a lot of firepower, and the disarray of the Federation could prove as an opportunity to escape. _Escape to where?_ comes a whisper from the back of her mind. _Anywhere where I can lead again_ , arrives the simple retort. 

"Is there anything you need?" Burnham disturbs her train of thought, standing awkwardly.  
Damn Burnham. It is all her fault. And why does she have to be so much like her Michael? Her face is almost as unreadable as her late daughter's, but there are micro expressions fleeting over, betraying the emotional disarray she tries to hide. It was less noticeable aboard the Charon. She dismissed it then to nerves about the premeditation of another coup. Now, in the light of her real identity and history of her Georgiou, she knows the reason is merely attributed to her presence. Though Burnham still stands at attention, her hands are folded in front of her and not behind her back like it would be expected from a soldier, like the Admiral stood. Her fingers are also fidgeting unbeknownst to her, another sign of her state of mind. Georgiou waits for the inevitable continuation of Burnham's pestering while keeping in track of every little detail of movement. Like a lioness on a hunt. Looking for tell-tales of weakness or anything that could be useful later on. Besides the obvious of course.

"Do you require medical attention? Lorca hit you hard, you lost consciousness for a little while." comes the next question. Georgiou can only shrug at it. There were times when her injuries were more severe, yet she kept going on. Her scars beneath her armour are testaments to that. Now she only has bruises on her body and those will fade with or without a doctor. The emotional scars however run deeper and there is no surgical intervention to heal those. Right now, what she needs is to be left alone, and not some fussing doctor nor some nagging child.  
"I have some field medic training, we don't have to call a doctor if you only want to have a look on minor injuries." says Burnham as if reading her thoughts.  
The Emperor squints at Michael, silently wishing for her to shut up. She doesn't want to lash out on her, she might be her only escape route. 

Burnham, seeing she's not getting any answer, purses her lips and goes on, pushing her luck.  
"Would you like to eat something? Or drink? Obviously, there are some beverages on the shelf, but if you need something else you can use this replicator." and she indicates to her right on the wall. "You can replicate any kind of food or drink programmed into it."  
Before she could stop herself the Emperor retorts cynically "Do you have a good Kelpien soup recipe?" with a dangerous smile. Underneath she is boiling like a volcano ready for eruption.  
"Not funny." replies dryly Burnham frowning a little. The memory of her last dinner still haunts her - and her stomach. She still stands there, as if she was a waiting for some sort of order.

"I want to be left alone." forces Georgiou out.  
Michael lowers her head in defeat. She can see that the Emperor is not in a good mood, best not to trifle with it. But before she leaves the room, she turns back from the door to Georgiou who looks just deep in thought.  
"I'm sorry. Sorry, that we are not in the best state now and cannot show you what the Federation is all about, that you have to stay here in this room for a while." She stops momentarily, trying to gauge the Emperor's reaction, but she closed her eyes, her expression is stoic. Michael is debating whether she should continue, whether the Emperor will accept a little more talking from her before literally kicking her ass out of the quarters. Perhaps later she can ask for a few moves to be taught. 

Just when Georgiou could think that Burnham will finally leave her alone, she decides to speak up again. Georgiou rolls her eyes exasperatedly.  
"I am however not sorry for saving your life." braves Michael.  
"Don't expect any gratefulness on my part." growls the Emperor. "It was my decision to stay and die fighting, you had no right to question it. I've had no reasons left to live on."  
Michael nods but counters timidly "You've said as much before. I'd hoped that by bringing you here, you can have one again."  
She only receives a hateful glare in response.  
"I'll come back later to see if you need anything." and with that Burnham steps out.

Finally. A long sigh escapes her. The stress boils over looking for a sudden release. Georgiou quickly grabs the nearest glass in her reach and throws it hard against the doorframe venting some of the anger. She stands and begins to roam around. Stupid child. She doesn't need her protection. As if it wasn't so infuriating that she plucked her into this universe to be trapped, she also had to look like, hell, act like her own daughter. Someone in the universe must find this extremely funny. Well she doesn't. She hopes she'll find the culprit and choke him, or it, or whatever it is responsible for this twisted symmetry between their universes'. 

She also can't stand sitting around and she's definitely not the type to watch things fly by. There was a good reason why she was the oldest ruler in the Empire's history. She always had a plan, and rarely trusted anyone. Except for two people. Her greatest mistake. She even allowed herself to love one of them, and both of them betrayed her in turn. Never again, she vows to herself. She needs a plan. Her anger seemingly smoulders down on the thought of plotting, all excess energy is directed toward thinking. She also needs a drink. Walking over the shelf she opens a bottle containing an amber liquid. Sniffing the contents she is pleased to find it similar to a brandy she likes and pours herself a glass.

Walking over to the viewport of the room her gaze wanders around the stars while sipping from her drink. First, assess the situation. There is great war between the almighty Federation and the Klingons. She assumes the Federation is not winning. The only way to win against those barbarians if they treat them as the animals they are, unfortunately that is against the shiny Federation's ideals. But when they are desperate, they will come to her and she feels that time is near. Her knowledge on Klingons will come in handy when things will turn ugly. And it is definitely not the question of if but when.

Georgiou turns around, sitting down on the sofa, conjuring up in her mind the short conversation with the greeting party. The Admiral tried to act strong, but has no idea what to do. Poor little creature, she could be bent to her ideas with ease. The only problem with that could be the Vulcan seemingly counselling her. Well at least he was intriguing. She needs to investigate him further because she feels, there must be a deeper connection between him and Burnham. Burnham's eyes reflected the same respect and care she looked at her, she even mirrored his stance. If she is right, she could play either side to her advantage. And not to forget that all three people and the Kelpien looked like they were seeing a ghost. It means that her features are almost the same as their Georgiou's. That would explain the foolish, sentimental act of Burnham ( _Pot, meet kettle!_ mocks a honeyed voice inside her, _Never again!_ retaliates the Emperor back). So maybe she could pass as her, it would be almost as good as freedom. Granted this new version of Captain Georgiou would most certainly raise a few eyebrows quite fast.

The next stop is to wait for Burnham's return and ask her about the Vulcan. Wonder how long it will take? Probably only a few hours. It is clear that she yearns for her former Captain, to seek redemption and forgiveness and maybe a bit of mothering. Pathetic. Well, she is not her. She is an Emperor and not some replica who is here to replace a weak Federation Captain, just because they share a name and a face. There are no second chances where she comes from, and she doesn't think there is in this universe either. It doesn't mean however that she could not pretend to give Burnham what she wants, to lure her in, lower her defences. One just needs to be patient for a while.

 

Just as the doors close behind Burnham leaving the Emperor's quarters she stops. Her hands are shaking, her feet feel like lead. She must recollect herself. She doesn't know how to deal with all of this. In a desperate attempt to calm her nerves she closes her eyes, takes a deep breath, counts to four and exhales. Then, crack. A sharp noise of a glass smashed against the wall is heard. She spins around suddenly alarmed, staring at the door. War is waging within her, whether to go back and check on the Emperor or to stay outside. Time seem to have slowed down. No other sound is coming from the room, there is no reason to intervene. She'd like to think, she understands the Emperor's frustration. Best to leave her be for a while.

What she wouldn't give for a good liquor right now, or just someone to whom she could talk unrestricted. But she can't. She doesn't have that type of relationship with Saru, she always wanted to hide her feelings from Sarek, and Tilly, she can't know who resides in this guest room. Guess the only option for now is the punching bag in the gym, breaking one glass just wouldn't do for herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just would like to say thank you to all who considered to read it so far. These are my first tryouts at writing, therefore suggestions and constructive criticisms are always welcomed.


	3. The end is nigh

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An expansion of the scene in s01e13 before going in to the lion's den.

Emperor Georgiou sits by her table in her residence, the constant hum of the surrounding electronics and her breathing is comforting in this storm. A few days ago, news about her daughter’s resurfacing came as a shock to her.

Now, after Lorca’s second coup, the Emperor berates herself for being weak, for making allowances to a face she could never say no to. She should’ve put the Federation’s Burnham in the brig earlier. It seems that no matter the universe, Michael Burnham must betray her with Lorca. This hurts her in more ways than she’d let herself to acknowledge. She must make an order in her mind, before deciding for the next step, but she just couldn’t set aside the pain losing her daughter again and again. And now her Empire is also lost. All in a matter of few hours. She pulls out Michael’s – HER Michael’s - badge from her pocket. Before, Georgiou was surprised previously that Burnham would carry an object with her that could mean the end of her disguise. There was no logic behind carrying it with her, her origin could have been tested with a simple blood test. Holding her Michael’s badge in her hands, caressing the engraving on it, she understands it now. It could be the only item to remember her Georgiou by, and there must be an enormous weight of guilt and regret attached to it.

The Emperor puts the badge in front of her and stares at it, as if waiting for some answer on how to move forward. Suddenly over the soothing humming of the engines she hears steps. Arming her pistol, she aims toward the intruder. It’s HER. She’s holding her arms up in surrender, and she doesn’t have the strength to pull the trigger like this. _Pathetic_. She’d slaughtered hundreds by her own hand who were less defenceless. She should really dig herself out of this hole.

“How did you find me?” comes a question from the Emperor in a pained voice. Hearing the unmistakable emotion in her own voice Georgiou tries to control it.  
“My bracelet makes my life signs undetectable”. That was better.

Burnham sits across the Emperor, gun set on the table. Michael tries to gather her thoughts to reason with her, why her path led her here. She fears that an answer like _I was following my heart_ would not put her in a good favour with the Emperor.  
“This is your sanctuary, considering the situation it made sense you’d come here.”

Georgiou looks at her disbelievingly. Expecting Lorca’s troops to barge in on Burnham’s sign. _So, this is it. This is how I go. Sitting in a chair waiting for my own death. It’s deplorable._  
“I should have known. Lorca seduced you too.” voicing her fears. She reaches for Michael’s badge, to ground herself. For a brief moment she thought that she’d get back what she’d lost to that bastard. But if she has to die now, she’ll die with that badge in her hand.

Michael doesn’t seem to understand. “Why would you say that?” she could never do that. Of course, the Emperor doesn’t know about her triste with Tyler. That her heart is shattered to pieces in more ways than one.

“He broadcasted for everyone to hear. Why else would he protect you?” Georgiou picks up the badge, at looks at it as if studying a photo, while listening to the explanation of Burnham.

“Lorca believes destiny brought me to him. He doesn’t get to tell me what my future is.“

That picks up the attention of the Emperor. _So, no troops waiting outside._ She looks at Burnham in curiosity. Maybe there is still a chance.

“I’m responsible for forging my own path, we all are. My Philippa taught me that.”

A nice sentiment. My path now can only lead to one thing. Killing Lorca. Or at least die trying. “This belonged to my Michael.” shows Georgiou a familiar badge to Burnham. “Now Lorca has taken everything from me.”

Michael tries to appeal to the Emperor, that she understands how she feels and she pulls out her Georgiou’s badge. “You’ve lost a daughter, an Empire, I’ve lost a Captain and a life.”

Conceited brat. Just because we share the remains of our loved ones in a form of a badge, does not mean we’re connected. And how she dares to compare the loss of a Captain to a loss of a child, in addition to an Empire. This Burnham just doesn’t understand. How could she? She’d only see glimpses of their lives. Highly ranked people often get kill to assume their position, that is the way of life around here, and often their own child is the usurper. Still, losing a child that is loved is the worst thing a parent could think of. Before lashing out in anger at Burnham, Georgiou jumps from her seat and heads toward the viewport to compose herself.

Michael watches the retreating form of the Emperor. Had she said something wrong? She thought she’d caught her attention, that she could include her in a plan to take down Lorca. Perhaps if she could offer some explanation on why she’s so adamant keeping up their connection. She follows the Emperor to the viewport.

“Both versions of me betrayed both versions of you. I won’t let that happen again.” then more sternly “I won’t let you die again.“

“So that’s what happened to me on your side?” the Emperor now knows the reason behind the guilt she’d seen in Burnham’s eyes. Burnham not only lost her Captain but she was the reason for it. She wonders if her Michael ever felt some guilt after her betrayal.

"I’m gonna stop Lorca.” says Burnham with as much conviction as she can muster up.

The Emperor begins to see the similarities between her Michael and this Burnham in their passion.  
“I see why he is so enamoured with you. You almost make me believe you can do it.”

Burnham feels that this is her chance to make the Emperor join her. She will not back down. She is determined to destroy this ship, even if it’ll cost her own life. “I will do it. For what he’s done to me, for what he’s done to all the innocent people who stood in his way. And for the loss of life that is to come, if no one stops him here. Today.”

Georgiou listens to her every word, watching every little expression, ingraining it into her mind, perhaps for the last time. No matter what she is like, where she is from, she is an almost complete replica of her own daughter. She sees that no matter what her response will be, Burnham will go and try to stop Lorca, not just for some ill idealistic view of the Federation but she’s also fuelled by her own rage. Georgiou can work with that. What she desires the most is to kill Lorca, and whatever plan Burnham has, it must include a confrontation with Lorca. And when they are there, she will live with that opportunity. Killing Lorca with any Michael Burnham by her side is just an icing on a cake.

“What is your plan?”

Relief fills Michael. “I have to disable the orb’s containment field.”

“Those controls are in the throne room. How would you get to them?”

“By giving Lorca exactly what he wants.”

Georgiou contemplates Michael’s plan. There are few hurdles to pass, but it is possible to win. Georgiou also hopes that she can save Burnham in the process, to right a wrong. She’ll die either way, every men and women are on a hunt for her, but if she could save Burnham then her death would mean something. In the end she would still have the choice to die for what she wants.

“With my access we can divert energy from the throne room’s shields. The shield would still work, because it is impossible disable it, but a few torpedoes could do enough damage in the structure to create a diversion.”

“Understood. I’ll contact Discovery immediately.” but just as Michael heads for the closest panel, she stops and turns back to the Emperor.  
“What will happen to you?”

“Don’t worry about me, I have my own plans.” says the Emperor with a mysterious smile for an added effect.

Michael nods in acknowledgement and proceeds to contact her ship. Little does she knows what that plan is. But Burnham’s question threw her off a little. Why does she care what will happen to her? _For the same reason you care about her_ \- comes a snarky remark from the back of her mind. Georgiou closes her eyes and silently curses. Not only they have to defeat Lorca, but in the process, she has to make sure this naïve Michael won’t make some stupid mistake in protecting her. Why every version of Michael needs to be such a pain?

After 2 minutes Michael is back with a satisfied smirk on her face.  
“All set. Shall we?”

“I need to tell you something.”

“Is there anything else I should be aware of?” asks a surprised Michael.

“No.” The Emperor steps closer to Michael who is holding back watching her in vary. Just as she is at arm’s length, Georgiou raises her hands and cups Michael’s face with a warm touch. At the connection but of them take a sharp breath.

“Listen to me very carefully.” warns the Emperor and Michael can only gulp and nod. “Your job is to destroy the ship.” starts the Emperor slowly. “Do whatever it takes to stay alive. Even if it means killing me.” Michael gasps and tries to speak up in argument, but Georgiou shakes her head, all the while keeping their gaze, effectively silencing Burnham.  
“Do you understand?” Michael turns her head away for a moment, but the Emperor will have none of it.  
“Look at me!” comes a sharp order, and Georgiou’s hands direct Michael’s face back to hers. Unable to do anything on the contrary Michael steels her gaze again on the Emperor, who repeats her question.  
"Do you understand?" and finally Michael nods in assent.  
“Good, one more thing.” the Emperor’s stern voice lightens up. “I’m not your Captain and you are not my daughter. Keep reminding yourself of that on our way to Lorca. You'll have to be very convincing and you’re a terrible liar.”

And with that she lets Michael’s face go and signals Michael that she is ready to go now. Her inner voice argues that she should practice that same sentence as well, but she ignores it. It doesn’t matter. She is to kill Gabriel Lorca for what he’d done, and that is a mantra better suited for her last battle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First and foremost, thanks for reading it!
> 
> I've been trying to finish up this chapter for a while now and finally managed to do so. To be honest I'm not sure I'll be able to top Chapter 2 ever, but I wanted to put an end to it before Season 2...
> 
> ...And 'cause I have conjured up a new nonsense story idea, and I needed the space in my mind for it :)


	4. Late night conversations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a small extension of S02E05.

Michael quietly steps into Tilly’s quarter to check on her friend’s well-being. Just the sight of the broken-hearted Tilly makes Michael to forget her problems, focusing on helping Tilly. Tilly cried into Michael’s shoulder for a while, neither of them giving attention to the time. And even after the tears dried up, they remained quiet, the silence and a shoulder to lean on are the comfort Tilly needed.

Then suddenly Tilly sits up remembering something. “Hey, I’ve heard that the Emperor was here and even that she helped us out. Is that true?”

Michael sighs. “Yes, Tilly. It is true.” but she doesn’t really want to divulge further into the matter. Though Tilly has just the opposite idea.

“Then …” Tilly stops momentarily “How are you feeling?”

Michael raises and eyebrow, questioning Tilly’s inquiry.

“I mean, the two of you have slight differences.” tries Tilly.

“Slight differences?” asks Michael in amusement.

“Yes, I’m standing by that expression.” Tilly nervously slips her hair behind her ear. “I just don’t understand why are you cross with her. Yes, she almost blew up a planet, but Starfleet sanctioned that plan. And when the plan changed, she didn’t really fight you. And now? Without her, we would’ve died.”

“Tilly, she did it to gain a favour card.” starts Michael tiredly, but Tilly quickly replies.

“Would it be any other ship and crew, she wouldn’t have intervened, I bet my life on it.”

Michael looks at Tilly with a frown. There is reason behind her words, but “I don’t know how you can see good in every person. Especially in her.”

Tilly quiets down “Because there is good, even in the evilest person. Usually the most fiendish are evil because something good got taken away from them.”

“When I was aboard the Charon, and I told her who I really was, she casually murdered all but one of her council and offered a promotion to the remaining one to clean up the mess. She didn’t even flinch.” counters Michael.

“She protected you.” mumbles Tilly.

“What?”

“The law would’ve demanded to execute you as you – a soldier of a foreign state - infiltrated the ranks of the Empire. Without witnesses you became the lost daughter who returned. And controlling only one person is easier, especially when everyone is after power.”

Michael stays silent looking pensively at the floor.

“I’m not saying that she is suddenly good. I’m pretty sure she has something wicked up in her sleeve, because that’s how she lived all her life. I’m just saying that I don’t think she has any intentions of hurting you, neither as a goal nor as a by-product of her schemes.” explains Tilly gently.

Michael turns her head back to Tilly. “She said that I have to start trusting her. And I just can’t understand why. In the Empire there is only one reason to do good by someone, to gain some advantage. What advantage could she gain with me, that she couldn’t with a random starship captain or an admiral? I’m just a commander, not even a first officer.”

“She doesn’t have anybody here.” Michael’s face darkens at Tilly’s explanation. “You’re the only one familiar to her. Don’t forget that she was a mother to a Michael Burnham, similar to you for almost 25 years. I don’t think anyone could erase something like that.”

“Maybe, but that would be just too easy.” replies Michael.

Tilly bites her lip “Why don’t you just ask her?”

Michael stares at Tilly in response, then she looks away, then back again. “You think she’d give me a direct answer without lying?”

“Yes, she’d answer, but I don’t think it will be a direct one. Still it is better than to overthink it.”

“Fine, I’ll ask.” answers Michael. “Now, how about we have some late-night snack?” asks Michael.

“Your version of snack or mine?” asks Tilly gleefully.

Michael smiles “After the day we had, I’d say we deserve yours.”

* * *

 

“Computer, are we still in communication range with Captain Leland’s ship?” asks Michael.

“Affirmative.”

“Computer, open a channel to ” Michael purses her lips in anger “Captain Philippa Georgiou on Captain Leland’s ship.”

The Emperor wakes up to the insistent beeping of the computer. “Computer, what is it?”

“Incoming message, from Commander Burnham.”

Georgiou shakes her head in disbelief. “Computer, what is the time?”

“2:14 am.”

Grumpily Georgiou leaves her bed to don a robe and slightly arranges her mussed up hair. “Computer, open channel.” orders Georgiou. As the channel opens Georgiou can see the back of Michael seemingly waiting for her reply. “Michael, did something happen?” inquires Georgiou.

Michael turns around quickly at Georgiou’s voice “I…” but before she’s about to reply she notices Georgiou’s outfit. “I’m sorry. Did I wake you up? I didn’t notice the time. I’ll call you later.” rambles Michael.

“I’m awake now. What is it?” asks Georgiou in annoyance.

“Nothing happened, I just wanted to ask you something.” starts Michael and as Georgiou’s face picks up in interest she continues. “Why do I have to trust you?”

“I don’t understand.”

“You said, that I have to start trusting you eventually. Why? Why do you want me to trust you?”

“Figure of speech?” tries Georgiou, knowing well, that evading the answer will most likely anger Michael. It’s not like she could have such fun with anybody else, well except Leland and the admiral, but they are not even half as fun as riling up Michael.

Michael sighs and shakes her head “Please, stop toying with me for a little while.”

Georgiou can see the weariness on Michael but, since she woke her up, she might as well torment her further. “Would you even consider to believe me should I give you an answer?”

Michael falls silent, then whispers. “No.”

“Then why did you ask it, child?” When Georgiou’s question remains unanswered, she takes pity on Michael. “You can’t really think ahead of you, can you? Now you’re only focused on getting your brother back.” At this Michael snaps her eyes on Georgiou. “I’ve told you, I want to find your brother before anybody else. But, for an entirely different reason than you think. Harming him would not help me at all.”

“What do you need from him?”

“It doesn’t concern you.”

“If you want me to trust you …” starts Michael but she is interrupted by an angry Georgiou.

“Then what? You wouldn’t believe me anyways. You’ve just said it yourself.” she looks away from Michael, then back at her. “Oh, and by the way, you’re not a frog in my tale.” And with that Georgiou ends the connection leaving a stunned Michael behind.

“And just what am I supposed to do with that?” asks Michael aloud to herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First: Yay season 2!   
> Second: I’m getting increasingly angsty about the Emperor’s fate. Why? Because the character feels more and more like Irina Derevko (see Alias for reference). Irina Derevko was a ruthless Russian spy when the job demanded it (i.e. Mirror verse), but loved her daughter (and husband) and did everything to protect her daughter no matter what (i.e. saving/not killing Michael a few times) throughout the seasons. And in the end, everything was forgotten and she wanted to kill her daughter to achieve her goal and got killed in the process. Grr.


	5. Game of light and shadows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scene addition to S02E07.

Michael’s realisation on the reversed number sequence has her mind running fast. The problem is, she can’t even access a console while on the Section 31 ship. But maybe, she could get help on it. She walks fast on the unknown corridors of the ship seeking a certain someone, she even looks for her on the bridge, but still there is no sign on Georgiou. Michael heads back toward her brother’s room, when she accidentally bumps into an officer, slightly knocking him to the wall.

“Oh, I’m sorry … ” her gaze wanders to the badge of the guy, but those Section 31 badges don’t offer any information on the rank.

“It’s fine Commander. If you don’t mind, you look kind of lost. Can I help you with something?”

“Yes. I’m looking for Captain Georgiou, do you know where she might be?”

“ _Agent_ Georgiou is in a lab nearby, but you’re not authorised to enter it. But I can tell her, that you’re looking for her, if you’d wish.” offers the young officer.

“Thank you. If you don’t mind, I didn’t mean to bother.”

“It’s no problem. Follow me, you can wait outside.” and they round a few corners, until the officer disappears through a door, leaving Michael behind.

After a few minutes, the door opens again and a displeased Georgiou saunters out.

“What is it Michael?”

Michael leans a bit closer to whisper but Georgiou steps back, surprising Michael. “Can we talk in private?”

Georgiou raises an eyebrow, and her face goes slack. She looks around, then fixes her gaze on Michael, trying to convey her wariness “I’m sure whatever you have to say now, we can discuss it in plain sight.” she opens her arms in expressing her openness, but she emphasises her last words hoping, that Michael notices.

Michael is taken aback at Georgiou’s words. She expected her to gladly go out of sight of the cameras … _Wait a second._ … Then she registers Georgiou’s words. She looks at Georgiou understandingly, then she reformulates her initial question. _So much, for getting help._

“Captain Leland in quite accommodating, I was wondering why was it so important for Section 31 to find Spock and help him?”

Georgiou is quick to answer “His father is an important member of the Federation Council. Should Spock fell into the wrong hands they would have someone high ranking in their pockets. Therefore, it was a Federation security issue.”

Michael regards Georgiou with expectation. Usually this would be the time for Georgiou to bite back, make either a spiteful comment or something similar wrapped in barbed wire. But all that follows is silence. Then a slight raise of eyebrow. A dare for Michael to stab back. However it doesn’t come as easy as one would think.

“Fine.” Michael says with exasperation. “What is that device really for?”

Georgiou wants to close this conversation as fast as possible and she tries to rile Michael up at the same time. She needs some expression of hostility for her plan to work. “It is classified.”

“Damn it! Is it really harmless for Spock?” asks Michael in bewilderment, but her answer is Georgiou’s back as she walks back to the door.

Georgiou nonchalantly addresses Michael over her shoulder, “This conversation is finished.” She is hoping that this will do and Michael will live with the opportunity.

“Philippa! Answer me!” shouts Michael and she grabs Georgiou’s arm slightly yanking her back. In a split-second Michael finds herself pressed face forward to the wall of the corridor with a loud bang, her arm twisted back, she releases a hiss. The pain is increasing to a point where she’d like to scream at Georgiou as she strains the arm further. And that’s when Michael realises that despite the pain, her arm is actually still in one piece and all joints are still in place. Then she glances down and notices that the loud bang wasn’t really her bumping into the bulkhead but rather the toe of Georgiou’s boot. _Quite the show!_

Georgiou angrily scolds Michael loud enough for others – and for the microphones – to hear. “I’ve told you before, never do this.” then she switches to a threatening growl. “This is your last warning.” Then she steps away walking back to her lab leaving a slightly dishevelled and confused Michael behind.

Michael peels herself from the wall, adjust her clothing and tries to move her arm. Even though it is a bit sore, no real damage suffered. She never expected this to happen, but clearly Georgiou has some plans including her. Michael warily begins to walk around expecting the Emperor to jump from any dark crevice.

* * *

“What was that?” asks Leland from Georgiou pointing to the surveillance recording of the previous minutes.

“A friendly warning.”

“You almost broke her arm.”

“Almost. Thus friendly. Back in the Empire she would have had to be escorted to the infirmary.”

Leland looks at Georgiou in disgust, but he stays silent.

“What? She needed to learn a lesson. I assure you, it worked.” and with that Georgiou leans back over her panel dismissing Leland’s scowl.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	6. Where it hurts the most

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> S02E10 - Michael and Georgiou talk before the mission

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, the last scene between Georgiou and Michael was just perfect (though it bugged me that SMG used her right hand in the close up shot and the left in the wide shot, but that's just nit-picking)
> 
> Second, if you use a material in a sci-fi show that is known in real life (I’m looking at you, perchlorate dust), then use it properly. A few minutes spent just on Wikipedia and just a general knowledge on how salts work (elementary chemistry) should be enough. There is a long comment at the end about it, just a rambling of a scientist’s mind. It won’t affect the story, I’m mostly going with the depicted version on how it is lethal, not the real one.  
> 

Michael wanders on her corridor deep in thought without noticing her surroundings. When she nearly stumbles into an ensign, she looks up finding herself at the door of Georgiou. She stares at the door for a minute debating with herself whether it is a good idea or not to make a visit. Her mind and heart are in shambles, everything she'd know of her parents torn down mercilessly and she's about to die to capture herself. The reality of tomorrow, that she'll be helpless, weighs her down already beginning to drown her. For some inexplicable reason her hand seemingly reaches for the door chime involuntarily.

 "What?" comes an irritated response from the other side of the door but the door opens and Michael wanders in to the quarter wringing her hands nervously.

"Is this a bad time?" asks Michael on an uncharacteristically shy voice. Her earlier doubt of visiting Georgiou slowly disperses as curiosity peaks up in her just by watching the Emperor’s determined strokes on the screen in front of her.

Georgiou looks up from her station in surprise of her visitor. She had a station like Lorca had in his ready room installed in her own quarters so others would not disturb her in her work. Clearly, she was wrong. Dealing with Michael is the last thing she wishes to do now. She needs to focus on the task at hand and Michael is definitely a distraction. Still, the way Michael holds herself and bearing the look of a frightened child changes her initial thought on sending Michael away. Georgiou makes an irked sigh purposefully eyeing Michael’s reaction. “Yes, it is.”

Michael barely makes a move, her eyes wander around as her mind is trying to come up with an excuse.

Georgiou rolls her eyes “Sit down,”, she motions toward the chair near the wall, “you look ready to keel over. The last thing I need is to call the sick bay.”

Michael nods in assent and she sits down. She all but slumps on it, her legs giving away under her. Michael frowns on her own weakness and she buries her head in her hands.

Georgiou watches Michael with concern, something she wishes she wouldn’t do. “I need to finish this. You can stay there if you remain quiet for the time being.” her words clear, lacking the usual mystery behind.

Without even looking up Michael folds her arms over her knees and she hunches over so that her forehead is reclining on her arms.

Georgiou accepts the non-verbal response and turns back to her work.

Michael struggles to keep her mind steady. In the past one and a half hour she wandered aimlessly around the corridors, trying to make sense everything that’s been happening and coping with the fatal possibility of their plan. But try as she might it is not an easy task, especially with her emotions on haywire in the wake of Leland’s admission. However, sitting here and focusing on the noise Georgiou’s clothes make at every move, her rhythmic breathing as she is concentrating on whatever she’s working on helps her. The cacophony of racing thoughts quiets down and Michael can finally begin to sort them out. As her mind clears up, she can finally take deep breaths further easing her discomfort.

In the meantime, Georgiou switched her position at the station so she could keep an eye on Michael. A while into her work she can see that Michael sits up, but her eyes are still closed. So she turns her attention back to her work.     

After about an hour Georgiou puts down her PADD a bit more heavily making Michael to look up. “Now, you can talk.” says Georgiou. walking over to Michael “But I don’t have too much time, so make it worthwhile.” Georgiou’s tone is strict.

Michael would be happy just to sit there for a while without talking. The realisation of the refuge Georgiou’s presence offers suddenly overwhelms Michael. Even when she walked in, she didn’t know what to say, or why her feet brought her here. And now the demand to talk doesn’t really help either. She wasn’t interested in asking something or talking about something, she was just happy to forget about the world for a little. Georgiou’s huff brings Michael’s attention back to her, and a raise of an elegant eyebrows signals the quiet repeat of the previous question. In an attempt to not ire Georgiou Michael asks the only question her mind can conjure up. “What are you working on?”

Georgiou is taken aback at the simple question and almost asks back if that is really the question Michael wanted to ask. Despite Michael’s demeanour is more relaxed, the uncertainty hadn’t left Michael’s eyes, and her voice sounds genuine so she indulges. “Trying to keep you alive.”

Michael furrows her brows in confusion and hopes that the Emperor hadn’t lost her impeccable ability to read her expressions.

“The plan not only requires sophisticated engineers to create the instrument, but a lot of fault checks and emergency shut down procedures as well.” Georgiou pauses “If the plan is to get you back alive, that is.”

“I’m sure that everyone is making sure that it will be flawless.” replies Michael.

“Yes. That’s why I added about a dozen more check and failsafe routines, and I still have 5 to go.” replies Georgiou plainly.

Michael sits back in surprise. Her Captain Georgiou had a great mind about bringing the best out of her people, and triumphed in battles with her strategic way of thinking, but she never was a scientist or an engineer. What the Emperor lacks in empathy she surely makes up with technological knowledge, impressing Michael. “What are your greatest concerns?” asks Michael.

“That list is long.” states Georgiou.

“Top 3?” tries Michael.

Georgiou shakes her head. “None of them should be of your concern.”

“How so?”

"We'll have to strap you down, so you’d stay in place.” here Georgiou stops, her vision darkens, _and I'll have front row seats watching you die in agony_ , remain unspoken. “You won’t be able to do anything against my concerns. Leave tomorrow’s hurdles to us. Your only job is to fight for your life, if the red angel will not appear to save you.”

Michael thinks about what Georgiou said, and what she could've omitted. “You don’t approve of the plan.” says Michael, not even questioning. At Georgiou's slight nod, she asks “Do you have a better plan, that does not involve us waiting for who knows how long?”

“No.” replies Georgiou. _But I don’t wish to witness your death either_ , thinks Georgiou to herself, then she quickly turns away back to her console to busy herself with something before she lashes out.

Standing sideways Michael can see as she picks up her PADD, but it slips out of her grasp and falls to the floor. Georgiou picks it up and smashes it down on the console with one hand and she grips the console with both of her hands.  

Michael stares at the Emperor studying her, trying to assess what caused her outburst. Georgiou’s grip on her console increases turning her knuckles white, as if trying to hold back something. No sound leaves Georgiou’s mouth she only attempts to regulate her breathing. Then it clicks in Michael and her logical mind admonishes her for not realising it sooner. The shuttle of Georgiou’s Michael got shot down in plain view of the Emperor. And now she’s forced to watch another person quite like her daughter die. Again. And there is nothing she can do about it. Again. Michael cannot even imagine what is it like to lose a child, let alone twice. She would be fighting tooth and nails to prevent that from happening.

Michael stands slowly from her previous position and sluggishly walks up to Georgiou who is still intently pretending to study the console in front of her. As she takes a step to touch Georgiou’s shoulder, Michael notices how Georgiou’s back stiffens as if sensing her intent. Michael retracts her arm and begins gently. “Philippa, you don’t need to be there tomorrow.”

Georgiou shakes her head. “I do need to be there.” comes a soft reply and she looks at Michael. She allows herself the luxury of filling her eyes with emotion taking her time a bit. Then her expression shuts down pulling up the mask she usually wears and she looks away. “It is a Section 31 facility, I can counteract every security lockdown on site, should it occur. We won’t have a second to waste.”

Michael nods, more to herself than to Georgiou as she is still looking down. The interpretation is clear, Georgiou needs to be there. To make sure she’ll be saved, that she’s not alone, despite that it most definitely wil be an unpleasant experience for her. But the Emperor can’t voice or display her feelings. It has been ingrained in her, not to act on her true, meaningful emotions. An errant tear escapes and Michael quickly wipes it away.

Then Georgiou speaks up “Get some sleep. You’ll have a big day tomorrow.” but she still refuses to look at Michael.

Georgiou’s caring tone tears Michael’s heart apart. Sure, she is exhausted, but she doubts that she’d get much sleep. She needs to organise her thoughts to be able to focus, and so far, she only managed to do that as she was sitting here. “May I stay here for a bit longer?” _That sounded like a 5-year old’s plea_. Then Michael adds in explanation “I can’t be alone now, but the bustling outside doesn’t help either.”  

Georgiou picks up her PADD again this time taking notes and begins to work on her console without answering Michael. _Well, she didn’t say no_ , thinks Michael and she sits down to the previously occupied chair, closing her eyes. Unbeknownst to her, Georgiou smiles, the pain in her chest slightly numbing. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
>  
> 
> PSA announcement: Perchlorate "dust" as they put it (it's a salt chemically speaking and e.g. can be found in a relatively large amount in Martial soil) would not dissolve your skin unless you constantly spray yourself with water to create perchlorate acid. If there would be a rain or fog and it is found in high concentration in the planet’s atmosphere then the reaction would be about the one we saw, but it was "only" dust. Perchlorate acid is also highly reactive with metals, so the equipment would be damaged in case of that acid rain. In time it is possible to make skin injury with the salt as well, but it would require a bit of time (over few minutes), and for the salt to sit on the surface of the skin. When inhaled perchlorate salt would dissolve on soft tissue (because of water) to acid and cause severe acid burns and would damage the alveoli in the lung. This would also mean that a simple resuscitation would not work because the lung needs the alveoli to "breathe". And it can actually cause blindness, ‘cause you know the surface of the eye is also soft tissue. So though breathing it in would cause additional immense pain with the pain of not getting enough oxygen but it would not dissolve the skin, and one wouldn’t be able to see because of severe eye irritation in a few seconds. Oh, and energy release (e.g. small flame, or in some variations a hit with a hammer) in a presence of some perchlorate compounds can cause an explosion. A big one. Seriously, some variations are used as rocket fuel. So, when they release a large amount of energy to capture the red angel, everything should’ve been blown up even in that carbon monoxide atmosphere. (sorry for the rambling, but I just couldn't leave it)


End file.
